Paternity is a Four Letter Word
by Floopygirl
Summary: How would you react on finding out your girlfriend was pregnant, years after your first child accidentally killed himself with your gun? SJ, COMPLETE
1. 1

Rating: 13+ for mention of abortion? (I don't understand the system)

Pairings: S/J

Season: Seven, pre-Grace

Spoilers: can't think of any

Disclaimer: not mine.

Summary: How would you react on finding out your girlfriend was pregnant, after your first child had accidentally killed himself with your own gun? SJ

A/N: Erm, I remember hearing people ask how Jack would react to being a father again after losing Charlie, and the question really bothered me. I think this is a good fic idea (yes, I'm big-headed), but I'm not sure I've done it justice. So bring on the criticism: I can take it.

Thanks to Jack for the beta job and to Lyssie for the title. _(hugs them both)_

This is the first of two parts: the second is basically done, so I'll have it up tomorrow or on Saturday, depending on how organised I am_  
_

* * *

"I think I'm pregnant." 

Jack's hand paused halfway to his mouth as he took in her words and then lowered again, thudding his wine glass down onto the table. Drops of crimson liquid spilled over the side and splashed onto the white tablecloth, sinking into it. He ignored them.

He couldn't seem to take her statement in. "When did you find out?" His voice was detached, almost as if he were asking about the weather forecast, or if she'd managed to get some good steaks at the supermarket.

She played with her fork, twisting it into her plate of spaghetti. "Yesterday. That stomach upset I got last week – well, it never went away, so I took a test yesterday morning. Then another in the evening." She paused. "They were both positive."

He stared down at his food, red sauce clinging to yellow strands with small green chunks lurking amongst the tangle. His stomach protested against what he'd already eaten; there was no way he'd be able to finish it. "So you haven't seen a doctor yet?"

She shook her head. "Any doctor I saw off-base would want to take a blood sample, and I didn't want to see Janet until I'd spoken to you." Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him, and her tone changed. "Jack, you're shaking."

He drained his glass, realising that his hand was trembling slightly. "It's the alcohol."

"That's your first glass," she retorted, rising to her feet. "It's not the alcohol."

He also got up, backing away. "I don't feel so good – maybe the meat in the sauce was off, or something." He ignored the hurt that flashed across her face – she'd actually cooked for once. Now he knew why.

"Jack, if you don't want to talk about this, just say so – don't lie to me." Now she was angry. "Don't blame this on me."

Was she talking about the food or the pregnancy? "Fine. I don't want to talk about this."

"So what do you want to do?"

He turned and left the room.

Halfway to the door he heard her call out. "Jack!" She was obviously concerned, but he could also hear anger in her voice. "Where are you going?"

"I'm taking a walk," he replied. "I won't be gone too long. An hour or two."

"An hour!"

And then her voice was cut off by the slam of the door behind him. He looked around, almost baffled by the sunshine. Somehow, this kind of mood could be carried off a lot better in rain: the sun would normally wash it away, but today that wasn't working. He'd just received news that should have sparked off some ounce of parental pride, if not ecstatic joy, but instead of celebrating or even talking about it properly, he'd just turned and run. The worst thing was, he hardly felt bad about it.

* * *

It was dark when he returned, and he could see a light burning in Sam's sitting room. It hadn't taken long for his self-justification to turn into regret, but he'd felt too embarrassed and ashamed to come back straight away. He didn't have a key, and considered looking for the spare one, but felt awkward about forcing his way into her home. He rang the bell and stood on the porch, staring at the peephole in the door. 

She answered quickly, as if she'd been waiting by the door. She probably had been. Her eyes ran him over and he shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, feeling vulnerable and exposed.

"You'd better come in." She turned away and left the door open; he followed her, relieved, sheepish and afraid at the same time. They entered the kitchen and he saw that she'd cleared away every trace of their meal.

"Do you want coffee?" The words were curt but he couldn't hear anger in her voice. He didn't understand why not.

"Sure. I'll make it."

She shook her head. "I've got it. Besides, I need to make myself some herbal tea." He stared at her – since when did she drink herbal tea? – and she fidgeted, twisting a strand of her about her finger. "I can't drink coffee because of the caffeine – bad for the pregnancy – but I think I've got some chamomile stashed away somewhere." He hadn't even known chamomile was low-caffeine.

She turned and started rummaging through the cupboard. He stood and watched, arms hanging by his sides, feeling helpless.

"I'm sorry I left."

She turned to look at him briefly, before returning to the mugs and kettle, and the intricacies of hot water and coffee grounds. "I know. I should have been more careful in telling you; I didn't think things through properly."

And then she was pouring hot water into a cafetière and staring at him with blue eyes that saw too much. "This is about Charlie, isn't it?"

The words cut into him. His face felt numb, his skin was cold and tingling, and there wasn't enough oxygen in his chest to breathe. He leaned onto the counter for support, desperately trying to buy some time. "I don't know what you mean."

"Hearing me say that I was pregnant brought it all back. And you're afraid that it might happen again."

"No." He shook his head automatically. "It wasn't my fault."

"You're right. It wasn't." Her words carried a heavy emphasis and suddenly he was unable to meet her eyes. He stepped forward and took the tray she'd been preparing. "Can I take this through into the sitting room?"

"Sure." He lifted it up gently, concentrating on not spilling the hot liquid, and walked on, feeling her close behind him.

He set the tray down on the coffee table and chose a lounger to sit in, not wanting any physical contact. She curled up on the corner of the couch nearest to him, hugging her knees with her arms. The silence stretched out.

Finally he couldn't take it any longer. "Have you thought about what you want to do?" He risked a look at her face and saw her frowning. She wore an expression familiar to him from her lab, when she was working on a particularly tricky problem, or from the field, when the team was relying on her to save their sixes. She had a different look of annoyance reserved specially for domestic crises and for when he was being an ass. He didn't like that she was treating this as work-related.

"You don't have to be involved," she stated, and he felt something tighten in his chest. "I can take a few years' absence from the field, catch up with all the work in my lab and rejoin a different SG team when the child is old enough." She paused. "Or I could have a termination."

He hadn't thought she'd consider that. "Would you? I mean... have you ever?"

He saw emotion flicker across her face, but it was gone before he could read it. "No." Her voice was firm. "I made myself consider it as a contingency plan when I was in the Academy, but I always take precautions and I've never had to think about it since." She shrugged. "Up until now, anyway."

"We take precautions."

She glared at him with all the spirit he was used to seeing, as if he was accusing her. "These things aren't always a hundred percent effective, you know!"

He raised his hands in defense. "I know, I'm sorry."

"No, I didn't mean..." Her voice trailed away, the spark she'd just shown disappearing.

Again they sat in silence, and Jack tried to think about what he should say next. His feelings were trapped behind a barrier he couldn't penetrate so his thoughts skated over its surface instead, circling round and round. Then he realised what he should have picked up on. "You don't want me to be involved?"

She looked down towards her hands, holding her teabag by its string and paper tag. Lifting it from her mug and dunking it back in, over and over again. "Yes." It was almost a whisper, but she looked up and returned strength to her voice. "Only if you want to be. I don't want you to do anything or commit yourself to anything just because you think it's your duty. I want more than that."

The curtains were still open and the blackness poured in, drowning the dim light given by the lamp. The situation felt unreal to him; he wanted to pinch or slap himself to prove it wasn't all a dream.

He heard himself speak. "I want to be there for you." And hoped the words were true. He was terrified and frozen, but he didn't want her to feel alone.

She leaned forward. "But have you thought about the consequences? It won't be a continuation of our affair: everyone will have to know. I'll have to resign, you'll have to resign. I'm sure I'll be allowed to stay on as a civilian scientist, they need me to keep everything working, but you'll never get to go through the gate again."

And another tiny part of him wanted to die at the thought. Years ago his world had fallen apart – he shied away from the memories – and then he'd gone through the Stargate, and everything had changed. It had been his life for the last seven years. Never to ever go through it again... it was what he did. Without it he was just an old man with a cabin in the backwoods and a complete set of Simpson DVDs.

She watched him, and he briefly wondered what she saw. Could she read his thoughts from his face or was she stumbling through this as blindly as he was?

"I don't want to rush you, but we're due to go off-world in two days time and I'm not going to go through that gate if there's any chance of it harming this pregnancy." Every word and gesture she made resonated with determination. "That means I have to see Janet tomorrow. If we're going to own up to our fraternisation," the word sounded dirty in her mouth, "Better to do it straightaway."

He knew what he should say – an admission of guilt and a promise to see Hammond in the morning – but the words wouldn't come to his lips. And she saw it, head bowing in defeat. She continued, "I'll go after lunch. If you want to come with me, tell me tomorrow morning. I'll be working in my lab."

"Sam!" He called out her name as she stood to leave and she waited silently for his words. "I'm sorry."

Yet again he saw her disappointment, quickly hidden behind a mask of normalcy, and he leapt up, pulling her clumsily into his arms. He clung to her, desperately, and she clung back. Her hold on him was so tight that it was almost painful, but he reveled in the contact that pushed aside some of the emptiness.

He didn't know who moved first, but suddenly they were kissing with an intensity that he'd thought long forgotten since they'd given up on hiding their feelings behind closed doors. His hands slid up under her top, touching her bare skin, caressing it gently – and then her hands were pushing against his chest, forcing him away. He released her, and he felt alone.

She swallowed hard, her breathing laboured. "Come to my lab tomorrow morning." And then she turned and headed up the stairs to her room.

He gazed at the empty doorway. Normally he'd go up and join her, but she'd made it clear she didn't want company that night. Unless she did, but wouldn't admit it. Or wanted to give him space. Or just wanted to see what he'd do if she left him with the choice.

He sat for a while, staring into space. Then climbed up the stairs and peered into the gloom of her bedroom. She was lying under the covers, totally still, one arm tucked under her pillow and the other lying outside the blankets.

He stripped down to his boxers, leaving his clothes piled outside the doorway, and then fumbled his way to the other side of her bed in the dark. As he stretched out beside her, slipping an arm around her waist, she twitched slightly and he froze, but then her body relaxed again and he relaxed alongside her.

He lay awake for a long time, listening to the sounds of her breathing. Remembering the sounds another woman made breathing in his arms, and the soft snuffles that he remembered hearing from Charlie's room, as he stood in the doorway and watched his son sleep.

TBC


	2. 2

Disclaimer: see chap 1

* * *

He woke to find himself alone and the sheets next to him cool to the touch. Staggering to the front of the house, he looked out the window to see that Sam's car was already gone. He wasn't surprised, exactly – she was famous for working through her problems in her lab and he hadn't gone out of his way to make things easy for her. Still. 

He showered quickly and then dressed, not stopping for breakfast. He wasn't hungry and there would be food on base. Besides, after the previous night's revelations, he felt uncomfortable in Sam's house without her, uncertain as to how welcome he really was.

The roads were almost empty of traffic and he reached the base quickly. Taking the lift down, he thought about what he would say to her, but he still didn't know. He wanted to do the right thing, but thinking about resigning and being a father again made him feel shivery and jumpy, all tight-chested and short of air.

He spent the morning wandering round aimlessly, getting in his own way: starting his paperwork (it worked for her, after all) and giving up after only twenty minutes; getting his ass kicked by Teal'c, so badly that the jaffa refused to spar with him any longer until he could regain his focus; trying to deny his terror and act as if the world hadn't fallen down on his shoulders.

Finally he went to her lab, unwilling to put off their confrontation any longer. He found her staring at her computer screen, but for once her fingers were still, and her face was pale and strained. Again, he felt his stomach lurch.

As he closed the door behind him she looked up, slowly and without her usual smile. "Hi."

"Hey," he echoed. Jack stood by the door, hands thrust in his pockets. He felt awkward and abruptly wished that he hadn't come to see her, that he'd just been a coward and let her make all the decisions.

"Have you thought about what you want to do?" He barely heard her words through all thoughts racing through his head, but forced himself to concentrate.

"I don't want to let you down." It was the truth, but it sounded ugly. No endearments, no expressions of hope for their future, no excitement. Just honesty, but it was all he could bring himself to give.

"Do you want me to have an abortion?"

He hadn't thought she'd be so blunt. His ears buzzed and he fought off a wave of dizziness. He thought about how he'd felt when he'd first seen his son, all the games they'd played and cuddles they'd shared and how incredible it had felt to have a family.

Then he remembered the sound of the gun-shot, and his hands and face turned icy.

"Yes."

She stiffened, closing her eyes. "Thank you for your honesty, sir."

He flinched at that last word. "Sam."

She lifted her chin. "If you'll excuse me, sir, I have reports to finish, and then I have to see Dr Fraiser."

"What are you going to do?"

Pain flashed over her features once more, but then her mask of control went firmly back in place. "I don't know, but I don't expect you to be involved."

That stung. "I'm the father, of course I want to be involved!"

"I'll take that into consideration."

He paused, staring at her as she stared at the floor. "Don't leave things like this."

"I'll let you know what decision I make."

"Sam..." He stopped, not knowing what to say.

"Sir?"

And that was that; he decided to back away for the time being. "Never mind." He pulled the door open and left the room, trying to control his need to tremble and let the grief pour out of him.

* * *

Later that day he was summoned to the general's office. He hovered by the door, standing to attention for once. 

"At ease, Colonel." The general regarded him strangely. "Take a seat."

"Thank you, sir."

The general paused, shuffling through some papers. "I have some bad news for you, son." Jack's heart sunk. "Has Major Carter informed you of her condition?"

What was he trying to say? "Sir?"

The older man sighed. "Jack, Carter's pregnant. She intends to stay on with the Air Force, but obviously she won't be able to go on any off-world missions in her condition. For now, I'm assigning her a larger role in the Research Department here."

Jack stared at Hammond, looking for any signs of suspicion. He didn't think Carter would have told the general of the father's identity without his permission, but that didn't mean Hammond couldn't guess the truth.

"And she's keeping the baby?"

Hammond was obviously surprised at the question. "From what I understand, yes."

"I see." He tried to sound unconcerned, to play the role of dutiful CO. "Sir, have you thought about assigning a replacement to SG-1?"

The general nodded. "I have several candidates lined up. I'll get the paperwork to you ASAP: you can decide who you'll be taking off-world with you tomorrow."

"Thank you sir." He stood up, and then remembered he hadn't been given leave to go. "Anything else, sir?"

The general shook his head, looking almost sad. "No, son. Dismissed."

* * *

He headed straight down to her lab. She was sitting in front of her computer again, but this time she was typing away, fingers flying over the keyboard. He knocked awkwardly on the open door. 

No smile. He figured he'd probably blown his chance of ever seeing her direct one at him again.

"I've just been to see the General."

Her face was cold. "And he told you?"

He nodded. "I thought you wanted to discuss this."

"I do." Anger resonated in her voice. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to go along with everything you decide."

He was affronted at her tone. "It might be best for both of us – we could keep our careers, things wouldn't have to change..."

"Sir," she hissed, "The child is mine too and I'm not willing to just... flush it away without a second thought, and certainly not just for the sake of our careers."

He felt sick. "Is that really what you think I want?"

"Isn't that what you just suggested?"

She stood up and approached him. "Jack, this doesn't change anything, or at least, not straightaway. I need some time alone, to think, and I think you do too." She faltered slightly. "I have some leave stored up. I'm going to take a week or two off, maybe visit Mark. If I stay in Colorado Springs, I'll end wasting my leave in on base." She smiled, but it was obviously forced and he wished she hadn't made the effort.

"Right." He shifted uncomfortably. "So we can talk when you get back?"

She nodded. "I'll have my cell phone with me. If you need to call..."

"But you'd prefer me not to."

She ducked her head. "Probably, yes."

"Okay." He hovered uncertainly. "Um, you should probably tell the others yourself. Daniel's going to be particularly upset."

"Or excited," she reminded him. He flushed.

"Or that."

He wondered how much longer he could keep making a fool of himself for. "Well, bye then." And he left, feeling oddly lost, with none of the relief he'd hoped for.

* * *

It wouldn't be unfair to describe the next few weeks as a nightmare. He and his team went on several missions, each time babysitting a different nerd or military geek. He remembered it being difficult to find a replacement for Daniel, way back, but this was worse. He hadn't realised how much he relied on Carter's military training until she was gone, and none of the officers Hammond had recommended had even a quarter of her scientific knowledge. He was surprised that they hadn't been killed already. 

At first, Daniel wouldn't let the subject of Sam's pregnancy drop. He kept asking if Jack knew who the father was, how long they'd been dating, mentioning snippets of conversations he and Sam had had – apparently it was okay for _Daniel_ to phone her cell. Then one day Jack lost it, letting loose all the anger that had been building since he'd heard the news. His teammate didn't even argue back, which somehow made things worse, but dropped the subject altogether. Jack found that he missed what little news of her Daniel had shared with him, but he didn't know how to apologise and therefore kept quiet .

Jack suspected Teal'c knew exactly who the father of Sam's child was. The jaffa didn't say anything, but his tone and manner had lost some of the respect Jack was used to receiving from him. There was no doubt as to his disapproval.

So the weeks went by. Jack was aware of when Sam returned to base, but he didn't go to see her and avoided taking his meals in the mess if he thought she'd be there. They bumped into each other occasionally, as was inevitable in such a small facility, but all contact between them was brief and painfully polite.

The pain and fear continued to sear into him and he became unable to sleep through the night, waking up regularly from tortured dreams of finding his son lying in a pool of blood.

Finally, he couldn't take it any longer, and he went to see her in her lab.

* * *

He stood in the doorway, watching her – she was always so involved in her work that he could steal a few minutes just gazing at her. Her face was fuller than it had been, and he realised that he didn't even know how many weeks pregnant she was. 

"Hey."

She jerked up, obviously unaware that he'd been there, and stared at him, wordlessly. He stared back.

"Can I come in?"

She took a few seconds, and then nodded. "Sure." She gestured towards a chair. "Take a seat."

He didn't, preferring to stand and watch her. "How have you been?" he asked.

"Nauseous, how about you?"

He winced at her anger. "Not good."

She waited for a while and then, seeing that he wasn't going to say anything else, turned back to her computer and started typing again.

He ran a hand through his hair. This was harder than he'd thought it would be. "I need to talk to you."

She stopped typing. "I'm right here. I've been here all along."

"Of course you have," he muttered under his breath, suddenly angry with himself for being such a coward "Look, I know I've screwed up. I don't deserve another chance, and I can't imagine what you must be dealing with, but I want to be there with you."

She didn't say anything, and he continued. "I keep having these dreams – look, should we really be talking about this here?"

She stood up and walked to the door, closing it. "Better now?"

"I guess." He took a deep breath. "I keep dreaming about Charlie, and he's shooting himself with my gun over and over, and I can't stop it." He realised that he was shaking, but forced himself to continue. "I love children but I never thought I'd be a father again. When you told me you were pregnant, I totally lost it."

His breath rushed out. "Go on." Her voice wasn't unkind, and he took it as a good sign.

"I'm still scared." He looked straight at her, trying to convince her that he was speaking the truth. "But that doesn't mean that we can't make this work somehow."

She nodded slowly. "Sir, it's inappropriate for us to be having this conversation here."

He felt his heart sink and started standing up. Then she continued. "I can come to your house this evening, say at seven."

Relief washed through him, making him feel so giddy that he almost laughed. "I'll cook."

He saw something in her eyes that he'd never thought he'd see again. "You'd better."

Slowly he stood up, knowing that he was grinning. "Major."

She smiled back at him. "Colonel."

He left the room and leaned against the wall by her door, unable to believe that he was so lucky. He was still terrified, and still felt like a total bastard for being so unsupportive, but maybe everything would work out after all.

The end


End file.
